


Doomed To Repeat It

by Devils_Official



Series: Doomed To Repeat It [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Established Relationship, Faking Your Death As A Solution To Your Problems, M/M, Politics, Post-Canon, Worldbuilding, extensive use of headcanon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2020-10-03 18:46:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 17,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20457728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devils_Official/pseuds/Devils_Official
Summary: Lotor returns from the Rift before the Paladins of Voltron. Sincline took him someplace where he would be safe, but he can’t escape the knowledge that he has failed, and that everything he fought for is in ruins. Sendak asks if he really wants to go back.





	1. Prologue

For once, Lotor woke before Sendak. He took a moment to study Sendak, the way he was still sound asleep, the way his ears twitched as he dreamed, before extricating himself from Sendak’s embrace.

He was rather loathe to do it, but he had a few things he wanted to do before Sendak woke.

It wasn’t difficult to get them done, thankfully. Sendak had used the same password for as long as Lotor could remember, so it was easy to open his tablet and send out a new set of orders. Nothing major -instructions to stay away from the hangar where Sincline was stored, course corrections for the day, that sort of thing. 

Sendak stirred awake by the time he was done, looking miffed that Lotor wasn’t still in his arms.

Lotor leaned down to kiss him good morning, before setting the tablet aside and curling back up next to him. “There’s no need to be so put out,” he said, teasingly. “I’m right here.”

“I have to get up in a few minutes,” Sendak grouched, pulling Lotor closer.

“No, you don’t,” Lotor said. He kissed Sendak’s cheek. “I sent a message to Hepta for you. You’re on sick leave with a cold.” 

“Lotor…” Sendak sighed, not that he was really bothered by it. 

“We’ll need time to think about our next steps,” Lotor said quietly. “I failed, Sendak, and now I- I don’t know what to do anymore.” 

“You can stay here as long as you like,” Sendak said. “When you’re ready, you can return to the throne, but with Voltron out of the picture for the moment-“

“I don’t want to,” Lotor whispered. 

Sendak paused. “Why not?” He asked finally, without judgement. Just a desire to understand. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

“No,” Lotor said. “But I need to anyway.” He told Sendak haltingly about what he remembered, what he’d pieced together, about Haggar and the Colony, Romelle, the Rift. Allura. Sincline.

“She attacked me first,” Lotor said quietly. “I thought she was different, but she’s just like all the officers I’ve dealt with my entire life, looking down on me for things I cannot change…. I didn’t want to fight her, or any of them, but… I had to defend myself. Sincline was protecting me. And in the end… They brought me someplace safe.”

“You’re always safe with me,” Sendak murmured. He’d been quiet through Lotor’s entire explanation, though Lotor knew him well enough to know that he’d grown increasingly angrier throughout, for all that it wasn’t directed at him. “You know that.” 

“Yes,” Lotor agreed. “I know. That’s why Sincline brought me to you.”

Sendak nuzzled the top of his head, an overwhelmingly sweet gesture. Exactly what Lotor needed right now. 

They didn’t say anything for a while, Lotor unsure of what exactly to say, and Sendak just waiting patiently. 

Finally, Lotor sighed. “Sendak, I… I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep giving everything I have, only to fail again and again and again… I just can’t. I’m done.”

“Alright,” Sendak murmured. 

“But I- I can’t just walk away, either. I- I’m the emperor now, Sendak, and that’s a lifetime office.”

“People will assume what they want,” Sendak said quietly, thoughtfully. “You disappeared fighting Voltron, the most powerful superweapon in the universe.” Lotor could hear his wry smile. “Well, one of them, my clever emperor. What will people think if you simply...don’t reappear?” 

“Sendak…” Lotor breathed, unable to quite believe that Sendak was suggesting  _ this _ , of all things. “You can’t be serious.”

“Why not?”

“I- I have responsibilities. I might be tired, but I have a duty, an obligation-“

“You have given all of yourself for these last ten thousand years, my love. If anyone deserves to rest, it’s you.” 

“I…” And Lotor wanted to so badly. He was bone weary of this life, of the schemes and deceptions and the spying and the never-being-good-enough and- “Will you come with me?”

“As if you needed to ask,” Sendak said. He pulled Lotor closer, so that he was laying on top of his chest, so that their eyes met. “Of course I will. I’ll follow you anywhere, my love.”

“What about your- your career?” 

“Do you think I really care about that now? I’d rather be with you than have all the glory in the universe heaped upon me. I  _ married _ you, Lotor. I love you. I will always love you.”

He knew intellectually that Sendak did, and would, but even so, it was difficult to remember that sometimes, when he was at his lowest, so Sendak’s reminders meant  _ everything _ . 

Lotor leaned forward and kissed him. “Where will we go?”

“Wherever you want. Someplace quiet, I think, away from all this. Someplace beautiful.”

“Yes,” Lotor agreed. “That sounds lovely.” 

* * *

They spent all day in bed, more or less, planning and talking and enjoying each other’s company. 

And finally Lotor broached the subject. “While I was...not myself, what… Was I…?” 

Sendak made a thoughtful noise. “You were… indescribable. Powerful beyond belief, terrible and lovely. I’d never been more afraid and aroused at the same time.”

“Predictable,” Lotor muttered.

Sendak nipped the tip of his ear. “You could have torn this ship apart like it was nothing, but you didn’t. I had to- The only way to make sure you didn’t was to distract you, so…”

“So you fucked me,” Lotor finished. “Of course.” 

“It was quite a rush to have such a powerful and terrifying creature subdued underneath me, but I- It wouldn’t have been nearly as good if it were anyone else.” 

“It wasn’t me,” Lotor said softly. “Not really.”

“You were in there,” Sendak said with conviction. “You knew me, on some level. You wouldn’t really submit, but you allowed me to subdue you. You could have killed me at anytime, if you wanted, but you didn’t.  _ Something _ stayed your hand. I choose to believe that it was your love for me.”

“I don’t know,” Lotor admitted. “I can’t remember it.” After Voltron hit him with that last blast of quintessence, he couldn’t remember anything until waking up in Sendak’s bed the previous evening. Only vague impressions, things he could attribute to Sincline’s awareness, but those were difficult to interpret beyond basic feelings. “But… I can think of no other explanation.” 

“Always the romantic,” Sendak teased. 

“Sendak,” Lotor said suddenly, “during my fight with Voltron, I said a lot of things I didn’t mean. Did I…?”

Sendak sighed. “Yes. You did. But you were hurting, and angry, and  _ raw… _ So you lashed out. I know you didn’t really mean any of it.”

“What did I say?” Lotor asked.

“Lotor…”

“Please. I want to know.”

“You said...that you wanted to destroy everything and everyone. You called everyone liars, said we were all pathetic. You said…” He faltered for a moment, swallowed. “You said you hated me.”

“I don’t,” Lotor insisted, horrified at himself. “Please, I wouldn’t- You know that’s not-“ 

“Shh, I know. I know.” He pressed a kiss to Lotor’s forehead and held him close. “You weren’t in your right mind.”

“Please forgive me,” Lotor whispered.

“There’s nothing to forgive, my love,” Sendak murmured. 

“I’m afraid that it will happen again, that I’ll hurt you, or…”

“You won’t,” Sendak said firmly. “I know you won’t.”

“You can’t know that.”

“I know  _ you _ .” He kissed Lotor, on the lips this time, soft and sweet. “If it happens again, I’ll take care of you, no matter what. That’s what I promised you when I married you. Alright? I’ll be fine.”

Lotor finally nodded. He wasn’t really sure he believed Sendak, but he said it with such conviction that it was difficult to argue. “I love you.”

“I know. I love you, too.” He cupped Lotor’s cheek with his natural hand, gently caressing his cheek, before guiding him in for another kiss. 

* * *

Once they had a plan, once their preparations were made, there was no reason to tarry any longer. It was easy enough to stage an accident in the restricted hangar where Sincline was kept, which was how they had chosen to fake Sendak’s death. With the cameras still out, and no one allowed in there, there wouldn’t be much evidence to disprove anything, and no reason to dig any deeper into the matter. 

Lotor sent Sincline back into the Rift. If he was going to walk away from it all, then he had to leave  _ all _ of it behind. He could still feel their connection; he was Sincline’s creator, and he’d poured so much of himself into the process of its creation…

But this was the way it needed to be. 

With all that done, they left and did not look back. 


	2. Introverts’ Paradise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lotor and Sendak are both introverts. No I don’t take constructive criticism

Sendak woke slowly, easily. Immediate wakefulness wasn’t necessary here, in this hidden paradise Lotor had brought them to, so he savored the slow slide into full consciousness.

Sometimes, he didn’t remember, upon waking, where he was, but today he did. Lotor was asleep in his arms, his back to Sendak’s chest, bundled up in the many furs of animals Sendak had hunted that made up their bed. 

The air was chilly, with the sun setting and spring still in its infancy. Sendak didn’t mind; he wasn’t especially bothered by the cooler weather, and it gave him an excuse to cuddle Lotor. Not that he needed one. 

A few stray rays of light filtered in through one of the windows -they must have forgotten to pull the drapes when they went to bed -indicating that sunset was still some time away. It was early, then.

And even if it hadn’t been… They were their own masters here. There was nothing pressing either one of them had to do today. Sendak had a successful hunt yesterday, so they had meat for the next few days, and the bright blue berries that Lotor liked so much were ripe now in the bushes near their home, if he desired some. 

Sendak had never really had a home. He’d been born after Daibazaal was destroyed, onboard a warship, like most of that generation. His parents had done what they could, but then they’d been killed, and…

He’d had to grow up fast. Notions of “home” and “childhood” and “family” had all fallen by the wayside. At the time, he’d managed to convince himself that he neither wanted or needed those, that the Empire’s goals were more important than his petty desires. 

And then he’d met Lotor, and everything changed. 

This was the first physical home he’d known, the first place he could call “theirs” but for a long time, “home” had simply meant “being with Lotor”. 

And that had been well and good; there was no one he’d rather spend time with. 

But actually have a place to call their own -the house and the meadow surrounding it and the entire planet itself -was new and exciting and better than he’d ever imagined it would be. 

(Part of him had worried that, since they’d never really lived together for any length of time, suddenly being forced to spend so much time together would sour things, but it hadn’t. If anything, it removed a lot of the pressure to enjoy every second together, since they had unlimited time now.) 

So it was in their home, in their bed, that he woke up, as he had every day for the last ten years. The best ten years of his life, and he had a feeling that Lotor would agree. 

He pressed his nose to the curve of Lotor’s neck, enjoying his sleep-warmed scent, clean and fresh and slightly spicy.

Lotor made a soft sound in his sleep. Content and  _ happy _ , and it did so much for Sendak to see Lotor truly happy for any great length of time.

He could not resist pressing a kiss to Lotor’s bare shoulder. He’d woken up half-hard, which wasn’t exactly surprising, given his proximity to Lotor, and now he had half a mind to do something about it. 

But there was no rush. They had all the time in the universe now.

He ground his cock against Lotor’s ass. The pressure and friction was enough for now. It would be so easy to slip in -he imagined that Lotor was likely still open and relaxed enough from earlier -but he wanted Lotor awake for that part, wanted to hear his just-waking sighs and moans, his sleepily mumbled words of encouragement…

To that end, he set about rousing (and arousing) Lotor. It wouldn’t be terribly difficult; Lotor was on the verge of wakefulness anyway, and this was Lotor’s favorite way to be woken up. 

He slid his hand down from where it had been resting on Lotor’s waist to his cock. Still mostly soft, but Sendak was patient, and after a few minutes of gentle fondling, that started to change. 

He nuzzled Lotor’s neck while he delighted in the feeling of Lotor’s cock filling in his hand, in knowing that it was his doing. 

Lotor’s hips shifted on their own accord, just little movements that had him pressing into Sendak’s grip. Even asleep, he still demanded more.

Sendak pressed his smile into the crook between Lotor’s neck and shoulder. It seemed impossible that he should keep finding reasons to love Lotor, after all these centuries, and yet…

He caught the exact moment Lotor stumbled into consciousness. It would have been impossible to miss it, with how closely he’d been paying attention to him.

Lotor’s breath caught, his ear twitched, and his mouth curved into a slow smile. He didn’t open his eyes yet, but his hips moved with a little more intent, and he hummed contentedly.

“Good morning,” Sendak murmured.

“It certainly is,” Lotor agreed. He twined his hand with Sendak’s, changing the tempo of his strokes. 

“I want to fuck you,” Sendak murmured, getting straight to the point. 

Lotor breathed a laugh. “I won’t stop you.” 

Which was all the permission Sendak needed. He pressed in, reveling in the slow, easy slide, Lotor’s soft sigh of pleasure, the heat and tightness of Lotor’s body, the way he yielded for him alone. 

It seemed to last forever -neither of them were in a hurry -and yet it was still over too soon, Lotor spilling into his hand even as he came inside him.

They stayed like that for some time, and Lotor began purring quietly while Sendak placed little kisses all over his neck and shoulder and cheek and wherever else he could reach. 

Finally, Lotor shifted enough that Sendak’s soft cock slipped out, and he rolled over, so that he was laying on Sendak’s chest, facing him. “Good morning, my darling.”

“Any morning where I get to wake up with you in my arms is a good morning,” Sendak said. 

Lotor smiled, his private smile reserved for Sendak, before leaning forward and kissing him, tender and slow, one hand coming up to cup Sendak’s cheek.

They made out like that for a long time. It was dark outside by the time Lotor finally pulled back a little, but Sendak didn’t mind. Quite the opposite, if he was being honest. 

“I love you,” Lotor said.

“I love you, too,” Sendak replied.

“I suppose we should have breakfast,” Lotor said. “Did you have plans for today?”

“Just this,” Sendak said. 

Lotor’s expression softened further. Once, such a response would have flustered him beyond words, but now he merely embraced Sendak tightly. “I love you,” he repeated. 

Sendak kissed him again. 

* * *

They had built a good life for themselves over the years, far away from all the troubles the universe had to offer.

(There had been an incident, three years into their self-imposed exile. It was different from his other episodes, in that he’d been nearly catatonic, unaware and distant, his eyes focused on something Sendak couldn’t see, something light years away.

(He’d never been so afraid for Lotor, but it had passed. All Lotor had said was, “It’s over,” and such an incident had never again occurred.)

Lotor’s episodes, where the quintessence in his system overwhelmed him, were growing rarer as he learned to control it. He could do wonderous things with it now, healing injured animals (too small for them to bother killing for sustenance) and making plants grow larger and more beautifully than they would have otherwise. 

Perhaps not much in the grand scheme of things, but it made Lotor light up with joy each time he managed something new, pulling Sendak along by the wrist to show him, excitedly chattering the whole way. 

Sendak never minded. He loved seeing Lotor happy, and anyway, Lotor was adorable like that. 

They had even brought a pet into their lives. Sendak knew that Lotor missed Kova terribly. Of course he did; Kova had been his first and only friend for such a long, long time, and now that he was gone…

Four years ago, one of the local creatures -something Lotor called a “ferrynx” -had had a litter of kits: three perfectly healthy kits, and one runt, weak and leucistic. The female ferrynx, used to their presence, simply left the kit near their home, abandoning it to their care when she decided to move dens. 

Lotor had been immediately enamored by the creature, small and kittenish as he had been at the time. He’d named him Bazal, and he’d flourished under Lotor’s care.

Ferrynxes were small predatory creatures, somewhat cat-like, if more elongated and with six limbs instead of four. Most were dark brownish-gray, but Bazal was white with fawn stripes down his back. They seemed relatively intelligent, and Lotor had taught Bazal to perform a variety of tricks. 

During the night, while they went about their various activities (fortunately, ferrynxes were nocturnal as well), Bazal was usually draped over Lotor’s shoulders like a feather boa, his long tail trailing down Lotor’s back. 

It made Sendak feel somewhat better about Lotor going off on his own. Ferrynxes were fearsome creatures, despite their size, and few of the native animals would willingly bother one. 

But Lotor needed something to do while Sendak was off hunting (Lotor enjoyed hunting, too, but he didn’t really have the heart to actually kill anything, if he could avoid it, so he usually left that to Sendak), so he often set off with his sketchbook and Bazal, and returned near dawn to show Sendak all the things he’d discovered. 

During the day, while they slept, Bazal usually curled up near Lotor’s feet or on his pillow, just as Kova had done. 

Sendak sometimes caught him watching Bazal play, smiling sadly as he reminisced. Such grief was natural, but Sendak wished there was more he could do. 

Regardless, Lotor was, for the most part, happy here, and it did Sendak’s heart good to see that. 

* * *

Sendak’s ears turned, trying to locate the source of the rustling. Not prey, he thought, as it was coming from above him, but-

He grunted as something landed on his back, bearing him down to the forest floor.

He rolled, catching Lotor by the waist and pinning him underneath him.

Lotor was laughing, his eyes sparkling mischievously. 

“Were you waiting for me?” Sendak asked.

“No,” Lotor said. “You just happened to come this way, and I took the opportunity.”

Sendak kissed him. He tasted almost acrid -he’d been eating the yellow fruit that grew in these trees; Lotor found them delightfully sweet, but their tastes did not always align -but Sendak didn’t mind too much. 

Lotor kissed back eagerly, still humming with satisfaction about getting the drop on Sendak, so to speak. 

“I love you,” Lotor murmured, when they parted to catch their breath. “I’m glad you came with me.”

“I wanted to,” Sendak said. “I want to be with you. I- I hope you’re happy here.”

“I am,” Lotor said. “I’m happier here than I have been in a long time, and I- I’m grateful that you’re here to share it with me. I wouldn’t be so happy, I think, by myself.” 

“I know,” Sendak said. He kissed Lotor again. “I love you, Lotor.” 


	3. Other Plans

Lotor woke with Sendak leaning over him, gently shaking him awake. Very different from how he usually woke, so he knew immediately that something was off. 

“Sendak?” He asked, fighting the lingering drowsiness. “What’s wrong?”

Bright, vivid sunlight poured in from underneath the curtains, indicating it wasn’t much later than midday, far too early for them to be awake. 

“Nothing,” Sendak said, a little too calmly, and anyway, Lotor knew him too well. “Nothing for sure.” 

And then Lotor caught the low rumble of an engine. 

Sendak’s hearing was better than his; he would have heard it sooner, even in a deep sleep.

“Who-?”

“It’s a Galra ship,” Sendak said, still calm. “Small. Maybe...one or two aboard? No more than three, not as far out as we are. They’ve made no attempts to communicate as yet.”

Lotor nodded, sitting up. “Alright. Alright.” He didn’t want to get out of bed, but this was a situation that needed to be dealt with. “Do you think they know-?”

Sendak nodded. “On their current trajectory, they’ll land less than half a mile from here. It’s too close to be a coincidence.”

Lotor nodded. He agreed with the assessment, but he didn’t have to like it. Part of him wanted to just-  _ hide _ , until these interlopers went away, but maybe…

Maybe someone had come for him at last, to try him for his crimes, to bring him to justice… Maybe they had come for Sendak instead, maybe…

He ran a hand through his hair. The rumble of the engines was only getting louder; it wouldn’t be long now. “Alright. We’ll… we’ll see what they want.”

Sendak nodded, then kissed his cheek, before handing Lotor his clothes. “It's no more than two or three soldiers,” he said quietly. “They won’t be as good as we are; we can take them, if that’s what you decide.”

Lotor dressed quickly. “I don’t want it to come to that,” he said. “I tire of this senseless violence.”

“I know.” He kissed Lotor tenderly. “I know, my love.”

“Let’s go see what they want,” Lotor said. He knew what he wanted: to be left alone, with his husband, someplace peaceful and safe. But it seemed the universe had other plans.

* * *

Lahn set his ship down gently in a clearing. “Ship” was a rather generous term for the small vessel, but it was what he had, and despite its size, it did have a spacious cargo hold.

He didn’t know what to expect. He’d only been given the coordinates for this planet and told to find the source of some unusual readings. That was usually how these things went, though; no one thought he warranted any kind of explanation these days.

The planet seemed nice enough, for all that it was midday where he set down, and the sun was hot and blinding. The air was fresh, and rich with life. The hunting would be good here. Maybe, before he went back with his findings, he could…

He headed off in the direction of the other ship his scans had picked up, cutting through the moderately dense forest in a straight line.

And then he heard the tell-tale click of a blaster being armed. “Stop. Hands up.”

Lahn did as he was told. He’d been through too much to die ignominiously like this: alone, shot in the back, on some uninhabited planet far off the beaten track. 

“State your business.” 

“I am…” What was the best way to describe his current role? Not an officer, not a warlord, not much of anything but the Coalition’s bitch. He wasn’t about to say  _ that _ , though. “I came to investigate some strange readings coming from this planet.” 

“Who do you serve?”

Who did he serve? The Coalition, nominally, but it wasn’t the most willing servitude. He just- He didn’t have a choice in that, not really. “I-“

“Turn around,” a second voice said. 

He did, his hands still up, but he nearly dropped them in shock.

Two figures stood before him, and of course he recognized them instantly. It had only been ten years (for all that it felt like lifetimes), after all, and they had been some of the most famous people in the Empire.

He fell to his knees on instinct alone, his hand coming to rest over his heart. “My Emperor,” he breathed. “My Emperor, they said- that you had died, that you were a murderer and worse, that-“

“Enough,” Emperor Lotor snapped. “Stand up and stop embarrassing yourself.”

Lahn got to his feet slowly.

It was harder to know what to make of the other figure. “Commander Sendak,” he said carefully. Images of the Battle for Earth had been widely publicized, news of Sendak’s death even more so. They’d all but put his head on a spike and displayed it for all the universe to see. 

“Lahn,” the emperor said, sizing him up immediately, no doubt seeing the total lack of insignia and rank markings on the flightsuit he wore. “The war is...over, yes?”

“Yes,” Lahn said. “It’s over.” He wondered...maybe he shouldn’t tell the emperor the truth of how it had ended. Everyone thought he was dead, and maybe…

But.

“It will not stay over,” Lahn said. “Our current peace is a delicate, brittle thing. Only you, my Emperor, could-“

“No,” Lotor snapped. “No, do not ask me for such a thing. You have no right.”

“No  _ right _ ?” Lahn asked, just as sharply. “You are the Emperor! I fought for you! And you  _ abandoned _ us.” 

“It was for the best,” Lotor said coldly. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“ _ I understand _ that we lost the war!” Lahn shouted. “ _ I understand _ that the Galra people are starving!  _ I understand _ that we are treated worse than diseased dogs, forever poisoned by Zarkon’s madness!  _ I understand _ that you are the only one who can do something about it, and  _ I understand _ that you refuse to!” 

“ _ How dare  _ you judge me.” His eyes started glowing strangely in a way that had nothing to do with the relative darkness of the forest. 

“Lotor,” Commander Sendak said quietly. “Calm yourself.”

Lahn trembled with anger, but tried to take Sendak’s advice for himself, too. If this came to a fight, there was no way he could take both of them at once. 

“We have food,” Sendak continued, just as deadly calm as before. “Come with us and eat, while we discuss this.”

“Yes, sir,” Lahn said automatically. 

* * *

Sendak followed Lotor into the house, closing the door behind himself. The door had no lock -there had never been a need for one before -but it gave at least the illusion of privacy. 

They’d left Lahn outside, seated by the fire pit they’d dug.

Bazal snaked his way up to his perch on Lotor’s shoulders, and Lotor petted his head absently. 

“What’s got you so upset?” Sendak asked gently. He knew -Lotor knew he knew -but he usually made Lotor talk about what bothered him. Vocalizing it helped him understand and control it, so it made sense, but sometimes…

“He just comes barging in here and ruins everything!” Lotor hissed. “He wants me to go back and fix everyone else’s mistakes!”

“You don’t have to,” Sendak said. 

“And if I don’t?” Lotor asked. “What then? Will he tell everyone that I’m still alive? They’ll come for me eventually, and then what? We’ll have to run, and keep running, and we’ll never know peace. I just- I wanted it to be  _ over _ , Sendak.” 

Sendak embraced him and stroked his hair. “I know, my love. I know.”

“I’m tired, Sendak.”

“I know, my love.” He kissed the top of Lotor’s head. 

“But if- if what he says is true, and I’m the only one who can help, then… If I do nothing…” 

“You’ve done enough for the universe,” Sendak said. “If you don’t want to return to the throne, then you don’t have to.”

“It’s not about what I want,” Lotor whispered. “It never has been.”

Sendak sighed. “I know.” He just held Lotor for a moment, and Lotor took comfort in that, as he usually did. 

“We could kill him,” Lotor said. “I don’t want to, but it would silence him. No one would have to find out about us.”

“He came in search of unusual readings,” Sendak said. “If he doesn’t return, they’ll send someone else. Besides…” He trailed off.

“What?” Lotor asked, looking up.

“I suspect that you are the source of those readings,” Sendak said carefully. “Even if you can control the quintessence now, it still surges occasionally. A sufficiently powerful instrument could pick it up, even this far away.” 

“So we can’t run,” Lotor said.

“It’s not the Galra way,” Sendak said. “You wouldn’t be happy.”

“And what about you?”

“What about me?” 

“Would you come with me, if I did return?”

“Of course,” Sendak said, like he didn’t even need to consider it. “I’ll stay by your side, no matter what comes.”

Lotor nodded, mostly to himself. “But… What do you think about all this? If it was up to you, what would you do?”

Sendak sighed again. “If it were up to me… We’d stay here as long as we could. You’re so happy here, and I’m not ready to give that up just yet. But mostly I- I wish Lahn had never come here. I know you, my love, and now that you know about what’s going on out there, I know that you will never be at peace until you’ve done something about it. Just by coming here, he’s stolen that peace from us, and I-“ He stopped himself and shook his head. “Regardless, the thing I want most is to be at your side, wherever that is.” 

“You’re right,” Lotor said finally, after a moment to mull it over. “How could I ever be happy here again, knowing what I know now?” 

“Sometimes, you are too good of a man for your own good,” Sendak murmured. “But I do love you for it.”

Lotor clung to him. “If I go, you’ll come with me, right?”

“Yes,” Sendak said. “Yes, of course. Anywhere you lead, I will follow, my love.” 

* * *

Emperor Lotor and Commander Sendak returned from their private conversation after a few minutes. The Emperor had some sort of creature draped over his shoulders, blending in almost perfectly with his hair.

They sat across the fire from Lahn, acting in perfect harmony, and faced him. 

“Tell me more,” Emperor Lotor said, “about the state of my empire.” 


	4. Dire Straits

It had taken some time for them to plan and prepare, decide on the course of action they would take, how they would announce their return to the universe at-large.

Finally, they were ready to leave. They would take Lahn’s ship: it was somewhat larger than the shuttle they’d taken to get here, and hadn’t suffered from Lotor scavenging parts over the years.

It saddened Sendak to know that the only real home either of them had ever known would have to be abandoned, left to be reclaimed by nature, but they could no longer stay here, and they would probably never be able to come back.

Judging by the longing in Lotor’s eyes, he knew that, too. 

But Lotor had made his decision, and Sendak had promised to stand at his side, regardless of the circumstances.

He found Lotor doing some last-minute inspections in Lahn’s ship, his upper body shoved into a vent of some kind in order to...do  _ something _ important, Sendak was sure. 

Bazal chirped at his approach, alerting Lotor to his presence. 

“Darling, can you hand me that big wrench?”

Sendak took the biggest wrench out of Lotor’s tool bag and passed it to him.

“Perfect,” Lotor said.

And then there were several loud clangs, like Lotor was hitting something with the wrench, but  _ surely… _

“I knew it,” Lotor said in triumph, emerging fully from the vent, holding the wrench and a blaster, with a smudge of grime on his cheek.

“What?” Sendak asked.

Lotor marched past him, going to the cockpit where Lahn was working on the controls.

He slammed the blaster down on the console. “You’re a smuggler.”

Lahn had the grace to look embarrassed. “I- Yes. I am.”

“You’re not even going to try to defend yourself?” Lotor asked.

“I don’t see the point,” Lahn said. “I am a smuggler, and I do smuggle weapons, among other things. Do with me as you will, Sire.” 

“Why?” Lotor asked. 

“Why?” Lahn repeated. “Because- There’s no other way. You don’t know what’s going on out there, so don’t judge me for-“

“It’s not judgement,” Lotor snapped. “Just answer the fucking question.” 

Lahn took a small step back. “My apologies,” he said. “I- I’m so used to- There are...stereotypes, and prejudices, and… Galra are violent and bloodthirsty, didn’t you know. So obviously we can’t be allowed to defend ourselves. Every fight involving Galra is the Galra’s fault. They always start everything, because they love meaningless violence. That’s just how we are I guess!” Lahn threw his hands up in the air in disgust, visibly shaking with what Sendak assumed was anger.

Lotor frowned. “Is that so,” he said, dangerously low. “Is that how all the universe sees us now? Is this the damage my father has done?”

“Your father, and others, Sire,” Lahn said. “As a consequence, we’re not allowed to even possess weapons, with few, highly-regulated exceptions.”

“So you smuggle.”

“Not just weapons,” Lahn said. “The situation is...dire. As I told you.”

“You’ve clearly left some important details out,” Sendak said.

“I didn’t think you would believe me, if I told you. I thought you’d think I was exaggerating, to try and trick you into coming back with me, Sire.”

“Let’s make a deal,” Lotor said. “You tell me the truth, the whole truth, leaving nothing out and making nothing up, and in return, I’ll believe your every word. But if I ever find out that you’ve lied to me, your life is forfeit.”

“Yes, Sire,” Lahn said, bowing his head. “I swear.”

“Good. Now, let’s prepare for launch; if the situation is half as dire as it now seems, we’ve wasted enough time.”

He left the cockpit, and Sendak followed, hot on his heels. 

“How’d you know?” He asked.

Lotor laughed a little. “I didn’t, for sure, but I’ve known enough smugglers over the years. Played smuggler once or twice, too; the rules are different beyond the far reaches.”

“It must have been dangerous,” Sendak said neutrally.

“Of course it was,” Lotor said, “but I came out on the other side. Anyway, that was a long time ago.”

“Are we going to tell Lahn about us?” Sendak asked.

Lotor shrugged. “I imagine he already has some idea about what’s between us, if not the specifics of it.”

“So...no,” Sendak said.

“Don’t you think it will be fun to see how long it takes him and everyone else? Besides, I need you to do some things for me before anyone knows that we are so  _ intimately connected _ .” 

“As you command, my Emperor.”

Lotor smiled, half-amused and half-mournful. “Vrepit sa.”

* * *

It would take a few weeks -in Lahn’s ship -to reach any destination of import, much less Feyiv or New Daibazaal.

Lotor spent his days listening to Lahn’s accounts of the atrocities occurring on New Daibazaal: starvation and unemployment and discrimination and worse. Disarmament, a governing body made up solely of those who seemed to hate the Galra, unfettered land grabs.

It seemed like vindictiveness to Lotor, like revenge. Perhaps it was; perhaps there were those who were self-aware enough to see that what they were doing was born of the hate they held for the Galra.

Not necessarily without justification, of course. But Zarkon was dead. The vast majority of his commanders and generals were dead, either through the course of the civil war following Lotor’s disappearance, or after sham trials run by the Coalition. Those who had had a say in the way the Empire had been run were dead and gone, and now only the civilian population and lower-ranking soldiers remained. 

And they had not been responsible for any of the atrocities of Zarkon’s regime. 

Regardless of that, no nation could allow itself to be oppressed in this way for long. Lahn was right: if this carried on, the collective guilt the Coalition tried to force on the Galra would stay few hands. There would be war, and with the populace almost completely disarmed…

It would be a slaughter. The Coalition would exterminate the Galra, and they would feel justified, because “Galra were violent, a threat to peace, bloodthirsty and war-hungry, and they deserved it.”

So he listened to Lahn, and changed his plans. He was the only one who had a chance of preventing all out war at this point. 

He just didn't know if anything he could do would be enough. 

* * *

He spent his nights with Sendak, of course. (If Lahn noticed, he didn’t say anything about it.) The berth was not really big enough for both of them and Bazal, but they made it work. Bazal didn’t take up much room, and Lotor needed Sendak to be close to him right now, especially at night, especially while they traveled through the vast void of space. 

The pull of the Rift -the desire to use the Quintessence in his blood, for any purpose, good or ill -was stronger here. He was better at controlling it now, but his control could slip.  _ Would _ slip, eventually, if he kept giving himself chances to fail. 

It was not a risk he could take right now. 

“What are you thinking about?” Sendak asked sleepily. 

“Everything,” Lotor said ruefully. “I can’t seem to turn my mind off tonight.”

“Oh, Lotor,” Sendak murmured. “What do you need?”

Lotor shook his head. “Just you.”

“I’m here,” he said, nuzzling the top of Lotor’s head. “I’m here.” 

“Promise me something?” Lotor asked.

“Anything.”

“Promise me that everything will be alright.”

“It will be,” Sendak said. “Everything will be alright, my love.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder: This will be the last update before Kinktober starts on Tuesday :)


	5. Bread and Circuses

They went to Feyiv first. Lahn had been against it, but if they went anywhere else, did anything but make it clear that Lotor was back for good, Lotor had no doubt that someone would try to cover his presence up. Make him disappear for good before he could do anything.

So his return needed to be public and undeniable. It needed to speak to the Galra people. It needed to reaffirm his power.

So Feyiv it was, the scene of his last, greatest victory. 

(Killing Zarkon had been a duty to the universe, not something he particularly wanted or celebrated, for all that it had been necessary. Becoming Emperor was...different; it had, at the time, marked a new beginning, and that was something to be proud of.)

The great Stairs of Destiny were in ruins, the hallowed memorials mere blocks of stone.

The damage had not been this bad after the Blade of Marmora had attacked the Kral Zera, and he himself had tasked crews with repairing the damage.

He turned to Lahn, who merely said, “The witch, Sire.”

One more thing to fix. He sighed. “Well, there’s nothing we can do about it now, except move forward.” In time, he would be able to fund a rebuilding effort; this was a sacred place, after all, and could not be allowed to sit in such a desecrated state forever. For now, they had work to do.

Importantly, though, at the very top of the Stairs, in the Kral Zera itself, a tiny flame flickered, refusing to die.

Lotor knelt to get a better look. He didn’t know the secrets of the Kral Zera -that was for the Archivist to know, not him or anyone else -but he’d been told that the flame burned as long as the Emperor who lit it still lived.

And he did. Despite everything, he was still alive and his flame was still lit. 

He closed his eyes and poured some of his quintessence into the flame. It was time to let the universe know that he was done hiding, done letting everything fall apart around him, and done letting everyone think that they could get away with what they had done to him and his people.

The flame roared to life, bigger and brighter than it had been when he’d first taken the throne, so bright and hot that he heard Lahn and Sendak curse and jump back.

But he was not afraid; this was his flame, and it would not burn him.

And then he stood, and turned, and said, “It’s time to begin.” 

“Citizens of the Galra Empire,” Lotor said, standing with the Kral Zera behind him, “for too long I have allowed you to think me dead, defeated and destroyed by the Paladins of Voltron. In truth, I was ashamed. I was afraid. I was angry. I thought it better to slink off into the shadows rather than face up to my defeat.

“I was wrong. I thought you, my brothers and sisters, would be better off without me, that another would come along who could lead you into a universe of peaceful coexistence with the many varied civilizations that my father only sought to crush. 

“I was wrong. In my absence, those who have led you have taken that authority without any right or rites. They have allowed you to be crushed under the heel of the Coalition. They force you into feeling guilt for things that my father did. They take all that was rightfully ours and give it away, to repay the abhorrences of my father. They have betrayed you. My father is dead, and we will not let his legacy live on, but neither can we live in penance for actions that are not our own.

“It is time to start anew, to build a better Empire. Will you stand with me, my brothers and sisters, or will you let them lead you down a path that ends in the annihilation of the Galra?”

It was a stirring speech. Sendak had watched Lotor pour over it, night after night, and had helped him with it, paring down into something not too verbose, not too long, with just the right amount of feeling. 

The cameras all shut down, and Lotor stepped down from the dais. “I hate giving speeches,” he muttered.

“I know,” Sendak said, “but you were magnificent.” 

Lotor smiled softly. “Thank you. Do you think it will-?”

“Yes,” Sendak said. “I have no doubt.” He took one of Lotor’s hands in his, intertwining their fingers. He didn’t know what Lahn thought of them or what he assumed about their relationship, and Sendak didn’t particularly care. It was useful for Lotor to keep their relationship private for now, but the danger and fear had died with Zarkon.

And besides, whatever Lahn thought, he would keep to himself. He didn’t gossip, as far as Sendak could tell, and he was loyal to Lotor (perhaps almost as much as Sendak was). 

“And now, Sire?” Lahn asked, falling in behind them, off to one side, half a step behind his Emperor. 

“Now,” Lotor said, “to New Daibazaal. It is time for me to see for myself the ashes we must build on. Prepare the ship for immediate departure, Commander.” 

Lahn’s steps faltered, but then he caught up and bowed his head. “You honor me, Sire.”

“You’ve earned it,” Lotor said simply. 

“Vrepit sa,” Lahn said.

“Vrepit sa,” Lotor replied. He squeezed Sendak’s fingers, and Sendak squeezed back.

Lotor had no memories of Daibazaal. Based on the accounts Lahn had recited of the last ten years, he supposed that there were no Galra left living who did. 

So he wasn’t sure what to expect, exactly, when they entered the atmosphere over New Daibazaal.

But not this. 

The Galra had never had much taste for agriculture. They were obligate carnivores, happy to let their food fend for itself until it was time for the hunt (although when circumstances required, even the mightiest of hunters would resort to scavenging), and the arable land necessary for large, husbanded herds of preferred prey items simply hadn’t existed on Daibazaal.

Such resource-poor conditions had led to a history of warfare among various tribes and clans, all with their own names for themselves. It was only when one of those clans allied with outside forces -ancient Alteans, fleeing from their original home planet -that those disparate clans had united into a single people, the Galra,  _ the survivors _ , under the rule of its first Emperor, Brodar the Uniter, to defeat them.

(That traitorous clan had been destroyed, down to the last scion, and their erstwhile allies had done nothing to help them.) 

That had marked the beginnings on Altean-Galra relations, sometimes friendly, but mostly fraught. In times of peace, the Altean introduced agriculture, and in times of war, slavery. 

(The practice was ended on Altea following a civil war, after the Galra had had it abolished some two centuries before; the Galra were a proud people, and would not let themselves be kept under the yoke of others. It was only after Zarkon’s corruption that the practice had been reintroduced.) 

Vast green fields stretched as far as the eye could see, which was quite far at this altitude. There was no movement, though, as far as Lotor could tell, or at least, nothing that would indicate herd animals. 

The fields had to be tended by someone, and Lotor assumed… This was New Daibazaal, the place the Galra had been given following the war.

Galra could not survive on a grain-based diet; they simply weren’t equipped for it. The grain might be for feeding animals, he supposed, but where were those animals? 

Lahn caught him staring, thinking. “Meat is imported,” he said, “with a heavy import tax. The tax is supposed to fund rebuilding projects. The grain is exported to New Altea, mostly, and then distributed elsewhere.”

“That’s what you primarily smuggled,” Sendak said calmly.

“It’s hard to see children starve because their parents can’t afford to feed them,” Lahn said quietly. “Grain is cheap, but…”

Lotor, half-Altean as he was, couldn’t survive on a grain-diet either; moreover, he did not want to. No Galra could thrive like that, and children fed on that diet would be sickly, malnourished; most would have health problems later in life, if they lived long enough.

It sounded almost like some sinister plot to exterminate the Galra, but perhaps Lotor was only too used to conspiracies. 

“That will be the first thing,” Lotor said. “My people must be fed, and they must be fed well. We should not have to import our vital sustenance on our home planet.” 

Lahn inclined his head, but only said, “We’re on the final approach, Sire. We’ll be on the ground in fifteen minutes.” 


	6. Arrival

They were expected; of course they were. In Lahn’s ship, it had taken them nearly three days to reach New Daibazaal from Feyiv.

Sendak supposed they were lucky they hadn’t been shot down as soon as they entered the atmosphere.

A delegation waited for them at the far end of the landing zone, primarily Blades, from what he could see. A few others, not all Galra. 

Lotor’s jaw tightened as he set eyes on them, but squared his shoulders and continued as if this changed nothing.

(It did, in Sendak’s calculations, change everything. Not for the better or worse. But it did change things.)

There were no banners flying, though there were places for them. 

Lotor approached the delegation with supreme confidence, somehow managing to look down his nose at all of them, though none were shorter than he. 

“His Majesty, Emperor Lotor,” Lahn said.

There was a long beat of silence as the delegates looked at Lotor and as he looked at them. He quirked a brow.

“Show some proper respect!” Sendak barked, in the same voice that made cadets snap to attention.

The Galra in the delegation were halfway to kneeling before they realized it and stopped themselves, straightening stiffly.

“He is no Emperor of ours,” the leader of the delegation said. Not Galra. 

Interesting. 

Lotor, who had been quite amused by their little display, smoothed out his subtle smirk. “Then leave,” he said coldly. “I alone hold the right to rule Daibazaal, and if my rule is abhorrent to you, I will not prevent you from leaving. But I will rule Daibazaal, and if you remain, then you will bow to my rule.”

He strode past them so abruptly that the delegation had to part around him if they wanted to avoid being bowled over, another trick Lotor had learned to make up for his stature.

Sendak and Lahn followed him.

The delegation, after a momentary hesitation, turned heel and came after them. “You cannot- You aren’t-“

“Commander, take me someplace we can rest in preparation for tomorrow’s work,” Lotor said, ignoring them. “Are there governmental offices in this city?”

Of course there were; this was the capital city of Daibazaal.

“Yes, Sire,” Lahn said. “If you’ll follow me.”

“They will be closed!” The lead delegate said. 

“Why would they be closed?” Lotor asked, still striding very quickly. “It’s not a holiday on Daibazaal.”

It wasn’t. Not a holiday, nor a day of mourning, as the lack of banners suggested. At least, not by any calendar Sendak knew. 

“It is a day of mourning!” The lead delegate said shrilly. “For-“

Lahn turned very pale. “Sire, if you will-“

Lotor finally stopped and faced the delegation. “For who,” he said flatly. “There are none I care to mourn. Hang the banners and call my government to me, if you care for the Galra, or else leave me to my work.”

They hemmed and hawed for a moment, and finally- 

One of the delegates -not the lead, and also not Galra -finally spoke up. “No member-state of the Coalition will be working today, or tomorrow, or for the next  _ week _ ,” he said. “Tomorrow is the anniversary of Princess Allura’s sacrifice.”

Lotor blinked a few times. Not in surprise, but he was processing it. Lahn had left this out, too -the holiday, not Allura’s death - but even the weeks spent traveling from their little unnamed paradise hadn’t been enough to fill them in on every detail. 

And then Lotor laughed.

Sendak had never heard him laugh like this before. It was truly hysterical, completely uncontrollable.

He laughed until tears streamed down his face, dripped from his chin onto the ground, until he was doubled over simply because he couldn’t draw breath.

He laughed so hard he wheezed, which finally had Sendak stepping in to try to get him under control. 

“Breathe,” he murmured, supporting Lotor against his chest. “Deep breath.”

He held Lotor, turned slightly away from the delegation, until Lotor managed to calm himself.

“Sacrifice,” he said finally, flatly. “Allura’s sacrifice.”

And then he turned once more towards the city. “Commander, General. Let us leave them to mourn. We have the living to care for.”

* * *

The government buildings were not a palace, though Lotor had not really expected them to be. 

Still, there were rooms for him and Sendak, and Lahn, and for now, that was all that really mattered. 

They had arrived late in the day, and by the time they had settled in, all he could do was watch the sunrise from the balcony of the grandest suite in the main building.

It all felt so... _ wrong _ . 

Some things had been constants in his life since before he could remember: his mother was dead. Daibazaal was gone.

And now… His mother truly was dead, but Daibazaal…

He was on Daibazaal, but-

It was wrong. It wasn’t the Daibazaal he’d studied. The lands had been tamed, the people broken and starved and destitute.

And he was the one who would have to fix it. 

Sendak came out onto the balcony. “Come to bed, my love.”

Lotor shook his head. “I’ll just keep you up.”

“You need rest,” Sendak said firmly. “You’re no good to anyone if you work yourself to death.”

“How can I rest?” Lotor asked. “I let this happen. If I hadn’t just run away like a coward, then-“

Sendak turned Lotor, so that they were facing, his hands on Lotor’s shoulders. “You are a good man,” he said, “and I know you think you failed your people. But this is not your fault. Others have made poor decisions, decisions that have hurt the people of this planet, in your absence. If they had made better decisions, this place would be a paradise. One day it will be. It is your duty to make it so. But a soldier cannot keep fighting forever without rest, and neither can you, my Emperor.”

“Stop being right all the time,” Lotor muttered. Because Sendak was right. There was a long road ahead, and if he exhausted himself now, he’d never make it to the end. 

Sendak bent down to kiss him. “I’m the only one you’ve ever listened to. Be thankful that I am right all the time.”

“Of course I listen to you,” Lotor said softly. “You’re the only one who cared.”

“Then let’s go to bed,” Sendak said. “You don’t have to sleep. Just close your eyes for a little while.”

“Will you hold me?”

Sendak pressed their foreheads together. “Of course I will, my love.”

(Lotor adored the pet name for two reasons: it reminded him that Sendak loved him, and it implied possession, which implied that  _ someone _ wanted him.)

Lotor wrapped his arms around Sendak’s shoulders. “Just for a little while.”

Sendak picked him up and carried him back to the bedroom. 


	7. The Boom That Wasn’t

Lotor woke just before sunset.

He turned immediately to Sendak. “Why did you let me sleep so long?”

“You obviously needed the sleep,” Sendak said. He hadn’t been up very long himself. Long enough to scrounge up some breakfast, but that was about it. “Eat.”

“Sendak! It’s- I have so much to do-“

“And you can’t do it on an empty stomach,” Sendak said. “ _ Eat. _ ”

Lotor huffed, but took the plate anyway. He didn’t complain about the… less-than-appetizing fare; he’d survived on far worse.

Sendak didn’t particularly like it; Lotor was the Emperor, and he should have the best of everything. (Even if he weren’t the Emperor, Sendak would still have thought that, because Lotor deserved the universe.)

But that was what there was for now. Lahn had not exaggerated the import tax. 

How anyone managed to survive in this city was beyond Sendak, but Lotor would fix it, and he would help. Whatever it took. 

Lotor ate quickly and washed up, before Sendak helped him dress.

Lotor didn’t need help, but Sendak liked helping him. It allowed him to sneak little kisses in, and that made Lotor smile softly.

This was going to be difficult on Lotor, probably for some time, and Sendak wanted to do everything he could to ease this burden. This wasn’t much, but it was something. 

They would have to commission new attire soon, fit for an emperor and his general. For now, they were like this empire: ragged, out-dated. 

He finished with the last cloak pin and gave Lotor one more kiss. “Are you ready?”

“I am,” Lotor said, drawing himself up. “It’s everyone else who isn’t.”

Sendak laughed even as he fell into step at Lotor’s side.

* * *

Lahn had been tasked with sending messages to the Galra council the previous night, calling them to convene today.

The chamber was empty when Lotor arrived, except for Lahn. 

He got to his feet immediately. “Sire.”

“Where is my council?” Lotor asked. It was a strange thing to ask. Galra Emperors did not have councils. They had advisors, if they wanted them, but they did not have councils. 

“They refused to come, Sire,” Lahn said. 

Lotor frowned. It wasn’t that he didn’t think this would happen; he just hadn’t thought they’d be so brazen.

They didn’t fear him.

They were so dismissive of them because they thought he had nothing. No power, no allies, nothing but a meaningless title. 

So of course they didn’t fear him, or respect him, or take him seriously.

Fine.

“Did they give a reason?” Sendak asked.

“They cited the day of mourning today, Sir. The heads of the council are on New Altea right now.”

Lotor sniffed. “They would rather mourn a dead girl than help those of their people who yet live. Very well. I do not require a council. I will rebuild this empire from the ground up if need be, and if they will not be part of it, so be it.” 

He turned and swept out, taking both of them with him. 

“Let’s see the city today. Commander, you know the city, right?”

“Yes, Sire.”

“Then lead the way.”

Lahn did, leading them through the halls of the council building, out to the street.

Before they quite got there, Sendak stooped low to murmur in Lotor’s ear. “Are you sure this is a wise idea?”

“We cannot stay hidden in here forever,” Lotor said. “Our main opponents are off planet today, and it’s unlikely that they would be able to orchestrate anything from there. Further, if we ingratiate ourselves with the people, then the power of the council won’t matter.” 

“It will, if the Coalition is still behind them,” Sendak said.

“What is the Voltron Coalition without Voltron?” Lotor asked. “Petty squabblers unused to governance.”

Sendak inclined his head, conceding the point. “I still worry for your safety.”

“I will have you and Lahn,” Lotor said. “And I’m not completely helpless.”

“I know,” Sendak said. “But I will always worry for you. That’s my job.”

Lotor flashed him a fond little smile. “I know, General, and I thank you for it, but there is no need.”

“Sire?” Lahn asked, from some distance away. “Are you ready?”

No. He wasn’t. Hearing about the ruinous mismanagement of Daibazaal was one thing; actually seeing it would be another. 

But he didn’t have a choice. He’d chosen to return from his self-imposed exile, and that meant he’d chosen everything that came with it. Even this. Especially this. Because if he didn’t see it, how could he knew how to fix it?

“Yes,” he said. “Show me my people, Commander.”

* * *

The city, once away from the government offices, was more midden heap than city. It wasn’t fit for a feral yupper, much less actual  _ people _ . 

Lotor was shaking with anger before they went a block in the oddly quiet district. 

There were people out and about, but they hurried along, not lingering, their shoulders slumped and... _ gaunt _ . 

No one stopped, or even as much as glanced at them, and it was…

“How can they pretend to be any better than my father,” Lotor hissed, “when this is what their governance looks like?”

“They want revenge,” Sendak said. “And they will make whatever justifications they need to in order to get it.”

“The need for vengeance is what started the last war,” Lotor said. “This universe will burn if this cycle never ends. Why can’t they see that!” 

“I-“ Sendak began.

Lotor started, and all three of them looked down.

A child was tugging on Lotor’s culet.

He was not very old, perhaps six or seven, and should not have been unattended.

“Hello,” Lotor said, kneeling down so that he was at eye level with the child. “My name is Lotor. What’s yours?” 

“Vrel,” the child said. 

“Are you lost?” Lotor asked. “Where are your parents?”

The child’s eyes watered, and his face crumpled. “I don’t have parents,” he said.

Sendak sighed internally. Of course.  _ Of course  _ this child was an orphan.

Lotor gathered the child up in his arms. “I don’t have parents, either,” he whispered conspiratorially. “And neither does Sendak.”

It was not how Sendak would have gone about comforting the child, but the child wiped his eyes and nodded. 

“Commander,” Lotor asked, standing with Vrel still in his arms, “is there an orphanage around here somewhere? Perhaps they know something about Vrel.” 

Lahn blinked, then nodded. “Yes, Sire. This way.” 

The child looked up at Lotor, frowning. “Lotor?” He asked. “Like the Emperor?”

“That’s right,” Lotor said calmly.

“Oh,” the child said. “I didn’t think you would be this nice.”

Lotor laughed, startled into it. “I don’t think too many others would consider me to be ‘nice’,” he said.

“Well, you are,” the child said with the sort of self-assurance only children can have. 

The orphanage wasn’t more than a few blocks, and while they walked there, Sendak realized…

It was a perfectly nice day, and yet Vrel was the only child they’d seen. 

There ought to be children playing in the streets, since they didn’t seem dangerous, just...impoverished. Maybe they would have been just as gaunt and ragged as Vrel was, but their absence was somehow worse.

He sidled up to Lahn. “Where are the children?” He asked quietly, too low for Lotor to hear. 

“Would you want to bring a child into this?” Lahn asked. “Vrel’s parents probably starved because they gave all their food to him so he wouldn’t. There- there simply isn’t  _ enough _ , even with the smuggling. The Coalition doesn’t provide.” 

“How do they expect us to live?” Sendak asked, trying to keep the anger out of his voice, but he knew it wasn’t working. Lahn had told them about this previously, but seeing it made it real. “How do they expect anyone to live like this?”

“They don’t,” Lahn said. 

He stopped in front of a building just as run-down at the rest.

(It was amazing that, in the seven years New Daibazaal had been around, all the buildings appeared to have been abandoned centuries ago, even though Sendak knew that it couldn’t possibly be the case.) 

Lahn knocked, and a nearly-emaciated man answered the door. “What.”

“I was told this is an orphanage,” Lotor said. 

“It is,” the man said suspiciously. 

“Does this little one belong here?”

The man’s gaze fell on Vrel, and his expression softened immensely. “He does. Thank you for returning him. I’ve been worried sick. I wanted to go look for him, but I couldn’t leave the others.”

“It’s just you?” Lotor asked. “How many children do you have here?”

“Almost two dozen,” the man said. “I do what I can, but I can’t-“

“I’m going to give you money for food, and to hire more staff,” Lotor said. “As much as you need. If there’s anything you need, just  _ ask _ .” 

The man finally looked at Lotor, really studying him, and then he paled. “Your Highness, I didn’t- I hope Vrel didn’t-“

“No,” Lotor said, “everything’s fine. Everything will be fine.” He paused, and Sendak knew that expression. “I’d like to move you and the children into one of the government buildings. There’s more room there, and you won’t have to worry about the roof collapsing on you.”

The man’s shoulders slumped in relief, in awe, in gratitude. “Thank you, Sire.  _ Thank you _ .” Tears sprang to his eyes, and he made as if to kneel.

Lotor stopped him. “That’s not necessary,” he said. “It would be remiss of me to let you continue such good work without support. I’ll have a building set aside and prepared before sunrise today. Will you need help to bring the children there?”

“Yes,” he said. “A lot of the children are sick, and some are too young to walk.”

Lotor nodded. “Then you’ll have it.” He finally set Vrel down, and the child slipped past the man. “I cannot thank you enough to this. Children are precious, and they should have good people, like you, looking out for them.”

The tears did spill then, streaking down the man’s face. “You are a generous man, Sire. Thank you for everything.”

“It is my duty to serve,” Lotor said. “Don’t thank me; things should never have reached this state in the first place, and I am deeply sorry for that.” 

He turned, leaving, and Sendak caught up to him. 

“Do you think this is the right thing to do?” Lotor asked.

“Of course,” Sendak said, shocked that Lotor needed to ask. “I can’t think of a more noble thing to do.”

“‘Noble’,” Lotor scoffed. “The paladins of Voltron were  _ noble _ . This is simply...good. I don’t… It is- The child was so  _ thin _ ...” 

Lotor had always had a habit of attracting strays, so none of this really surprised Sendak. No one wanted to see children suffer, but most would have simply ignored it. 

Lotor couldn’t, and Sendak couldn’t either. 

“We’ll help them all,” Sendak said. “We’ll make sure that they’re all fed and clothed and clean and-“

“We cannot make sure that they are loved,” Lotor whispered. 

“No,” Sendak agreed softly. “But they will survive, and for now, is that not enough?”

“They never should have lived like this in the first place,” Lotor said. “Not for a minute. I should have-“

“Lotor,” Sendak said firmly. “You thought you were doing the right thing. You made a mistake, and now you’re working to correct it. But you didn’t make the policies that led to this.”

“I know,” Lotor said. “I know.” He paused, squaring his shoulders, putting his sadness and guilt aside (for now, at least). “But they will have to pay for this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Galra are nocturnal and you can’t change my mind


	8. Life-giver

It was a clear day on New Altea, not a cloud in the sky, not hot and not cold. 

It did not seem like a good day to mourn, but then, Allura wouldn’t have wanted them to be sad today. 

They passed the day as they had every year for the last six anniversaries of Allura’s sacrifice: talking, reminiscing, eating, catching up.

It was difficult to be here without her, after everything, like some vital organ was missing. 

It was hard, too, because Shiro wasn’t here, but at least Shiro was alive, even if he’d never leave Earth again. 

Keith started as Kolivan came up beside him near silently; the thousands of years of spy-craft were too deeply ingrained for him to give them up now.

“They’ve arrived on Daibazaal,” Kolivan said quietly.

As always, Keith was off to one side, watching the others without really interacting. Nearby, but apart, an outsider. 

A defender of societies he would never be a part of, would never be allowed to be a part of. 

“And?”

“He called for the council to assemble.”

“They’re all here,” Keith said. 

The paladins’ remembrance was separate, private, but all across Altea, people of all races celebrated Allura’s sacrifice for the gift that it was. 

Life-giver indeed.

“Yes,” Kolivan said neutrally. 

“Why now?” Keith asked. “He’s had seven years. Or, hell, he could have stayed gone for another thousand years. Why now? Why today?” 

“Unclear,” Kolivan said. “We’ll leave for Daibazaal in the morning.”

“Don’t tell them,” Keith said. “They don’t know yet. Don’t tell them. Not today.”

“No,” Kolivan agreed. “It is not their place to worry about such matters anymore.”

Keith sighed. 

They’d never get the lost remnants of their childhoods back -especially Pidge, the youngest of them -but these last seven years had provided a kind of grace for them. A chance to heal, to rest, to come to terms with the reality of life after Voltron. And that meant relinquishing the universe to the control of the Coalition. They weren’t paladins anymore, and without the Lions of Voltron…

“Thank you,” Keith said finally. 

“They will find out soon,” Kolivan said. “He will want to be heard.”

“We don’t know what he wants,” Keith said. “We’ve never known that.” 

* * *

Over the years, Lotor and Sendak had both managed to put away vast sums of money. They were both accustomed to ascetic lifestyles, and had had no need for the billions they’d accrued over the years. 

It came in handy now. The economy was in shambles -on Daibazaal, at least, which was all Lotor really cared about now -and careful, thoughtful spending could revitalize it, and that would only improve living conditions.

He let it be known throughout Daibazaal’s sole city that he was looking for anyone who wanted to work, and that he would pay well for whatever services they could provide, legal or otherwise.

Lahn had even contacted a number of other smugglers, with whom Lotor was now meeting.

He pointed to a planet on the holographic display. “This is Cignara,” he said. “Are any of you familiar with it?”

A few of the smugglers nodded, which came as no surprise. Cignara had once had a supply depot in its orbit, although the planet itself was uninhabited.

It was, after all, covered completely in one large ocean.

“I require a large amount of Cignara’s water,” Lotor said. “Unfiltered and untreated, to be delivered as quickly as possible. I will pay by the gallon. Will any of your ships require retrofitting?”

A few of the smugglers raised their hands.

“If you wish to undertake this task for me,” Lotor said, “I will pay to have your ships retrofitted. When can the rest of you launch?”

“Today,” one gruff-looking woman said. “This evening, if the weather holds.”

“Excellent. I’ll leave to you make final preparations.”

The water itself was not what he was after. Rather, he was after what was in the water: trillions of single-celled photosynthetic life forms, the microscopic organisms that fed on them, the larger animals that in turn fed on them…

He was after an ecosystem.

Daibazaal itself had been revived, but all the life forms that had once inhabited it -other than the Galra, of course- were extinct now, and no feat of Altean terraforming could ever bring them back.

But… he could graft other, similar ecosystems together to create an approximation, one that would eventually balance itself out once all the pieces were in place. 

Cignara’s ocean was of a similar salinity to Daibazaal’s, their suns shone in the same spectrum, their atmospheres comparable enough. The fish that lived in Cignara’s ocean were edible, large enough to provide substantial sustenance, and prolific breeders when given adequate resources and space. 

Fish was not the first item on the menu, as far as most Galra were concerned, but they’d be plentiful and available, which was more than they could say for the Coalition's imported meat. 

Besides, he needed the photosynthetic life forms well-established in order for what he was planning next. 

* * *

Sendak stepped out of the bathroom after a much needed shower -he’d spent all day helping one of the numerous construction crews build sturdy, long-lasting houses -only to find that Lotor was still up, poring over a stack of reports and studies and who-knew-what.

“I thought you were going to bed,” Sendak said.

“I will,” Lotor said. “I just need to-“

“It can wait until the morning,” Sendak said. “It’s late.”

“Sendak…”

Sendak kissed the top of his head. “If I go to bed without you, you’ll end up staying up all night.”

Lotor glared. “No...”

“I know you too well, my love. Now, you can come with me of your own free will, or I can kidnap you. Which will it be?”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Lotor said. 

That was a challenge, because Lotor knew Sendak well enough to know that he absolutely would dare. But of course, Lotor being Lotor, he couldn’t admit that he was tired and wanted to go to bed, so he relied on Sendak “making” him. 

Which was fine with Sendak. It was quite easy to just...pick Lotor up. 

Lotor struggled a little, but only for show, like a disgruntled cat.

Sendak kissed the top of his head. “I love you.”

“It’s a good thing,” Lotor grumbled, “because I would never let anyone else-“

“I know,” Sendak said, with another kiss. 

He carried Lotor to the bedroom. Conveniently, Lotor was already dressed down for bed, so Sendak simply tucked him in and crawled into bed after him, cuddling up next to him, so Lotor wouldn’t get any ideas about leaving bed before sunset at the very earliest.

Lotor pretended to be mad for all of a minute, before giving in and relaxing into Sendak’s embrace. Sendak stroked his back the way he liked, and Lotor was sound asleep in minutes.


	9. The Game of Generals

The people who were actually in charge -not just impotently angry delegates -arrived on Daibazaal without fanfare. 

Lotor was pleased to know that they were greeted with Imperial banners hung from every available place.  _ He _ was the rightful ruler here, not these usurpers. 

The Galra had an established method of gaining power, and they had not followed it; therefore they were illegitimate, spouting false promises in order to get garner the support of the people.

When the Blade of Marmora promised peace a prosperity, they meant for everyone not Galra, apparently.

“Kolivan has invited me to meet with him this evening,” Lotor told Sendak. 

“Shall I accompany you?” Sendak asked, embracing Lotor from behind and nuzzling his neck sweetly.

“I want you to go in my place. Throw him off balance. Show him that he can’t just send for me like a- a beaten yupper.”

“Ah…” Sendak said, huffing a laugh. (It tickled against Lotor’s neck, but he fought not to show it.) “You want him to know that he doesn’t command you.”

“No one commands me,” Lotor said sharply, though the sharpness was not directed at Sendak. “I am the Emperor, and I will bow to no one, especially not this-“

“Hush,” Sendak said. “There’s no need to get so worked up.”

Lotor huffed, but Sendak was right. He didn’t know what it was about Kolivan’s invitation that had gotten him to irritated, but-

“I want you to evaluate him, and his motives, his abilities,” Lotor said, changing the subject slightly. “Everything you can.”

“As my Emperor commands.”

Lotor turned around in Sendak’s arms. “I love you,” he said quietly, reaching up to stroke Sendak’s cheek. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Sendak kissed his palm. “You won’t have to find out,” he promised. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good.” Lotor smiled softly. 

* * *

Kolivan had never personally met Commander Sendak -although Ulaz had been stationed with his fleet, and had given frequent reports -so he’d been...unprepared when it was Sendak and not the “emperor” who showed up.

But that was fine; Kolivan was used to thinking on his feet. And this was a useful opportunity for him, anyway. Maybe he’d wanted a chance to study the “emperor” up close, but why pass up the chance to size up the “emperor’s” right hand?

“Commander,” Kolivan greeted with an icy nod.

“It’s ‘general’ now,” Sendak said without missing a beat. “The Emperor had a previous engagement this evening, and sends his regards.”

“I’m sure he must be busy,” Kolivan said. He had to be: the city was already starting to look different, with construction on every street. Somehow, even the air was better.

“He sent me in his stead,” Sendak said. “Whatever you wished to discuss with him, discuss with me, and I will pass it along.”

That...was interesting. It made Kolivan question which of them was really in-charge. Was Sendak hiding behind the Emperor’s throne, pulling his strings like a puppet master? Or did Lotor have another agenda here?

Or perhaps… It was simply as Sendak said: Lotor was busy.

Kolivan invited Sendak to sit at the game board he’d set up earlier. “Do you play?” He asked, gesturing to the pieces.

_ Elek anvor _ , the game of generals, of strategists. 

“Of course,” Sendak said. “I learned from the best.”

By all accounts, Zarkon had been an accomplished player, and Sendak had served under him for...millennia. Had been personally taught by Zarkon, who had neglected to extend that privilege to his own son. 

“Do you have time for a game?” Kolivan asked.

“I suppose,” Sendak said. “Will you take the first move?”

Kolivan inclined his head a fraction. He hadn’t expected that -the first move set the tone of the game, so it was rare to pass up the opportunity to take it, and yet Sendak had -but since Sendak was offering, he wouldn’t pass it up himself.

He made a fairly neutral move -not overtly aggressive, but not timid, either -and the game began.

For all of Sendak’s bravado, he played a very conservative, cautious game, more thoughtful than Ulaz’s reports had painted him.

But fine. Kolivan didn’t care about the game. The game was a tool, a means to an end.

“The Blade of Marmora wants to know what Emperor Lotor’s intentions are,” Kolivan said finally, several turns in.

“The Emperor intends to rule Daibazaal, as is his blood-earned right,” Sendak said. He kept his eyes focused on the game board, as if he was oblivious to Kolivan’s examination. 

“And where do you fit in?” Kolivan asked. “Why- You served Zarkon for so long, so-“

“Why Lotor?” Sendak correctly guessed. “Because he is my Emperor.”

“And that’s it?” Kolivan asked. “You serve him as you served Zarkon simply because-“

“I’ve served Lotor for millennia,” Sendak interrupted. “My service to Zarkon was a necessary subterfuge, but Lotor invited me into his vision of the future, and I accepted it. It is a glorious future, and all that I have done is in service to that.” 

“You attacked Earth,” Kolivan said. 

“Did I?” Sendak drawled. “Funny- I’ve been in another system entirely for these last ten years.”

“We have footage,” Kolivan said.

“You also have my body, I’m told,” Sendak said. “Amazing, that I can be sitting here after one of the mighty Paladins of Voltron killed me.”

“How do we know that you’re the original?” Kolivan asked.

“Well,” Sendak said, “I’m no expert in cloning, but I assume there are- tests.” 

There were. 

“Would you submit to testing?” Kolivan asked.

“Not without good cause,” Sendak said, “and only if my Emperor asked it of me.”

“What about the Coalition?”

“What  _ about _ the Coalition?” Sendak sneered. “Without Voltron, they have no power. You might have managed to hobble the Galra Empire, but not for long, and if it comes to war, you know the Galra way as well as I do.”

“Do you not think,” Kolivan began sharply, “that we owe the universe a- a collective debt for all that was done in our name? All the atrocities that people like you committed?”

“No,” Sendak said. “Your guilt is not my problem. Conquest is the way of all people, and if the Galra were better at it than most, then it is to our credit. As for the atrocities… That was under Zarkon’s rule, and now Zarkon is dead. Lotor is not his father, and he is not you. He won’t commit the atrocities Zarkon viewed as necessary, but neither will he let the Galra be crushed under the heel of any foreign power, claiming benevolence or not.”

In  _ elek anvor _ , there were two types of pieces: the pawns, which were numerous and expendable, and the kings, of which each side had but one. When the king was defeated, the game was over.

There was another piece, though: the first pawn to cross the board became the kingmaker, granted special abilities. The game could be won without the kingmaker, but it did put that player at a major disadvantage.

Kolivan had the kingmaker piece this game, and yet… as he looked at the board, he realized that his king was surrounded, his kingmaker too far away to do any good and on the verge of being captured itself. 

It was Sendak’s turn, and he just smiled. Whatever move he made now, he’d win, or be a move away from winning, whatever Kolivan did. 

He stood. “If it comes to war,” Sendak said, “your precious Coalition will not look past the color of your skin, and you’ll be against the wall with the rest of us. Remember that.” 

With that, he left. 


	10. A Failed Attempt

The city was being rebuilt -practically from the foundations -at a miraculous speed, the workers moving quickly to tear down old, dilapidated polymer-siding structures and replacing them with stone mined from a nearby quarry. The stone was a good basalt, and would last centuries, or longer, if taken care of properly.

And Sendak thought that the citizens would. All the building, the process of creation, had invigorated the populace. There was an atmosphere of excitement, of looking forward to tomorrow, that hadn’t been there before.

Sendak certainly couldn’t remember anything like it, during Zarkon’s reign. 

There was hope, and people were smiling, and they were starting to look less emaciated. 

It was a miracle, what Lotor had managed to accomplish in so short a time.

The sun would be rising soon, so Sendak was on his way back to their residence. 

He was on the grounds when the alarms began sounding, high-pitched and impossible to ignore, set at a tempo that made his heart quicken.

His first thought, of course, was for Lotor, and he broke into a run, not caring about how unseemly it might be.

* * *

Lotor jerked back to full awareness, sputtering under the shower’s spray. It was nowhere near his face, but it still startled him, sending him into a near-panic.

“Shh,” Sendak murmured, “you’re alright.” 

Lotor clung to Sendak -he really was the only thing keeping him upright right now - and tried to take deep breaths.

“Do you remember what happened?” Sendak asked neutrally after a few minutes.

Lotor wordlessly shook his head. He happened to look down and see that the water swirling down the drain was a bloody pink color, and-

“Were you hurt?” Lotor asked hoarsely.

“No,” Sendak reassured quickly. “No, I’m fine.”

“But the blood-“

“It’s not mine,” Sendak said, “and it’s not yours either.”

“Then whose-?”

“We’re not sure yet,” Sendak said. “The cameras were down, and there isn’t enough left to visually identify.”

Despite his neutral tone, Lotor could tell that Sendak was pissed. 

“I can’t remember what happened,” Lotor said in a small voice, tucking himself closer to Sendak.

“That’s alright, my love. I don’t think you did anything wrong.”

“I- I probably killed someone, and I can’t remember it. Maybe-“

“The locking mechanisms on the door were broken,” Sendak said. “Our rooms were broken into. You had every right to-“

“Sendak,” Lotor said, anguished. “I didn’t mean to- I lost control, and I hurt someone. What if I hurt you? What if-?”

“Shh,” Sendak soothed, rubbing Lotor’s back. “You didn’t. No one else was hurt. You stopped as soon as you saw me. You were in control, even if you can’t remember it.”

“I don’t like it,” Lotor said. 

“I know.” He kissed Lotor’s forehead, then reached for the soap. “Let’s finish getting you cleaned up, and then I’m putting you to bed.”

“I’m fine,” Lotor protested, though he did lean into Sendak’s touch as Sendak gently washed his skin. 

“It’s late,” Sendak said. “You should be in bed by now. So you’ll sleep, and I’ll deal with this.”

“Sendak…” Lotor tried. But the notion of letting someone else deal with the fallout of this was a tempting one, and there was no one he trusted more than Sendak. 

Plus, he was suddenly hit with a wave of exhaustion.

He yawned.

Sendak grinned smugly. 

“Alright,” Lotor conceded. “But I want to know everything in the morning.”

“Of course.” 

* * *

Sendak managed to get Lotor into bed finally -Lotor hadn’t been especially helpful, mostly because he was so exhausted -and then quietly left the bedroom to see how the investigation was going.

He’d been very careful to not let Lotor catch even a glimpse of the main room of their suite; blood still stained the floors, the walls, the ceiling…

It had been like nothing Sendak had ever seen before, as if the assailant had simply...exploded, leaving gore covering  _ everything _ . 

The cleaning robots were diligently working, but even so, it would likely take all night, and possibly some of tomorrow, too.

The scene Sendak had barged into had been a disturbing one, but all he could really remember was the eerie glow of Lotor’s eyes, the blood, the way everything went still as Lotor noticed him…

He didn’t remember if he paged Lahn, or if Lahn had come because of the alarms, but he’d left the investigation in his hands while he’d hustled a blood-covered and unresponsive Lotor into the shower. He knew Lotor well enough to know that Lotor would be disturbed by the scene, and he wanted to protect Lotor as much as possible, even from himself if he had to.

“The cameras went down about fifteen minutes before the alarm went off,” Lahn said without preamble. “The assailant had experience with this sort of thing.”

“An assassin?” Sendak asked.

“Probably. Obviously they got more than they bargained for.” 

“Obviously,” Sendak said, ignoring Lahn’s unasked question of  _ how the hell-? _

“We haven’t been able to recover much biological information on the assailant,” Lahn continued. “The machines keep reporting errors. I could have it analyzed by hand, but-“

“No need,” Sendak said. “You said that the assailant likely had experience. Not an amateur.”

“Correct.”

“Probably contracted, then, or…” Sendak frowned at the thought of the other likely possibility. 

“Infiltration was their main tactic,” Lahn said quietly. “Before they became a ‘humanitarian’ organization.” 

“Hm,” Sendak said to that, and then he turned away. “I will need guards stationed at the main entrance to these rooms, and at intervals throughout this wing.”

“Already done,” Lahn said.

“Very good,” Sendak said. “There’s nothing else to be gained here, now; go get some sleep and let the cleaning bots do their work.”

“Yes, sir,” Lahn said, saluting before he left.

Sendak looked around the room again -really, he had no idea that a single person had this much blood in them - before returning to the bedroom.

Lotor was fast asleep, curled up on his side, a little furrow between his brows. 

Sendak gently stroked his cheek. If he could protect Lotor from everything -every attempt on his life, every mean word, every hardship -he would, regardless of the cost.

But he couldn’t. All he could do was be here for him when things went wrong.

He got into bed behind Lotor, holding him protectively, and watched as, little-by-little, every ounce of tension slowly drained from Lotor’s body. 


	11. Before The Storm

Lotor woke to Sendak gently nuzzling his neck and shoulder, Sendak’s way of waking him without startling him.

“Mm...morning,” Lotor murmured, rolling over a little and burrowing deeper into the blankets. 

Sendak huffed a laugh, probably at Lotor’s unwillingness to face the day. Sendak was the morning person, not him, and Sendak had probably been up for an hour already.

Lotor considered burying his head under a mountain of pillows and going back to sleep, before he remembered. 

He groaned, and started dragging himself out of bed.

Sendak pressed him down, easily, with a hand to the center of his chest, pinning him to the mattress.

“Sendak,” Lotor said warningly. “I have far too much damage control to do- I can’t just- Sendak!”

“I took care of it,” Sendak said firmly, “and you are not leaving this bed until I am satisfied that you are alright.”

“I’m fine,” Lotor protested.

“And because I am your loving and deeply concerned husband, you’ll let me verify that for myself.” 

Lotor glared but laid back. It was nothing they hadn’t done for each other before, though these examinations were often more for the examiner than the examinee. 

Sendak touched him reverently, gently, carefully and delicately, like no one else ever had, like no one else was ever likely to. 

“I’m sorry,” Lotor said after a few minutes, as Sendak pressed on his stomach to check for internal injuries. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“I know,” Sendak said, before bending down to kiss Lotor briefly. “I just… I get so scared at the thought of losing you.”

“I feel the same way,” Lotor said, “about you.”

“I know, my love, but no one’s trying to kill me.” He helped Lotor flip over onto his front so that he could complete the examination. 

“So it was an assassination attempt,” Lotor murmured.

“Mm,” Sendak agreed. “We have a few ideas of who might be behind it, but no real evidence.”

Lotor sighed. “That’s my fault, isn’t it? You said there wasn’t even a body left…”

“You did nothing wrong,” Sendak said firmly, kissing the back of Lotor’s neck. “Don’t blame yourself.”

“If I had better control…” Lotor said. 

“You were attacked, my love. The only thing that matters is that you defended yourself, and that you’re alright.” His hands lingered over Lotor’s lower back, fondling more than was strictly necessary.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” Lotor grumbled. In truth, he was not opposed to it, but he really did have things to see to, and he couldn’t do them if-

“And what is that?” Sendak asked innocently, sliding his hands up Lotor’s ribs with an aching slowness, a sensual touch instead of a probative one. 

“You want me to stay in bed,” Lotor said, “so you’re-“

Sendak straddled his thighs, thoroughly pinning him to the bed, and pressed his thumbs into the knots in Lotor’s shoulders, and Lotor forgot every single one of his objections.

It hurt, of course, but when the knots released, Lotor couldn’t help moaning in pleasure and relief, leaving him panting a little.

“You’re so tense, my love,” Sendak said, “and you’ve been working so hard…”

He continued his massage, and all Lotor could do was hum in contentment. Sendak knew his body so well, knew all the places he carried tension and all the places that made pleasure shoot up his spine. 

It was difficult to think of a single reason to protest this, not when it was so nice, so he didn’t, just let Sendak do as he would.

And then… Sendak moved, so that he held himself above Lotor, and bent down to mouth at the edge of Lotor’s ear. It was not a strictly sexual thing, only… It was certainly something Lotor wouldn’t let anyone else do to him. It was far too intimate, too sensual, practically scandalous if anyone even saw this.

“Sendak,” Lotor breathed.

Sendak hummed, and moved on to Lotor’s neck. He was usually a biter, often leaving Lotor all marked up (not that Lotor ever minded), but today, he just  _ teased _ , like some kind of  _ monster.  _

“Sendak,” Lotor said again, more desperately. “I know what you’re trying to do.”

“Then stop me,” Sendak said, his lips brushing over Lotor’s skin like a kiss. 

And all it would take was one  _ no _ , one  _ stop _ , and Sendak would, without protest. 

The problem was that Lotor didn’t have the will to stop this. He didn’t want to, and surely… Surely he deserved good things, and Sendak was willing (more than willing) to provide, so…

His silence made Sendak chuckle darkly, and Lotor flushed; Sendak knew him too well, knew exactly which buttons to push and when. 

Even with this tacit permission, Sendak didn’t hurry. He touched Lotor everywhere, it seemed, more sensual than sexual, though Lotor knew that this was but a prelude.

He tried arching up into Sendak’s touch, tried making those sounds that always drove Sendak crazy, but Sendak wasn’t in a mood to be hurried, and with him pinning Lotor down with his body, all Lotor could do was take it. 

Still, it was good on its own, a different kind of pleasure, and he’d probably never been quite so relaxed in his life.

It was therefore a surprise when Sendak sat back up and put his hands on Lotor’s ass, groping with barely disguised intent.

Lotor huffed a little laugh; Sendak was so predictable. 

“You have such a nice ass,” Sendak said. “Don’t you like to be appreciated?”

Lotor tried to muster up a response, but Sendak pulled his cheeks apart, exposing his asshole to his sight, and Sendak made a dark, hungry sound, which sent a nearly painful burst of arousal through him. 

“How is it that you manage to be so pretty,” Sendak asked, “even here?” He pressed a thumb -the warm, flesh one -to Lotor’s rim, not quite dipping in yet, only providing an enticing pressure, the promise of fullness. 

Lotor mewled a little, trying to shift back, trying to get what Sendak was holding just out of his reach-

“Mm, but you did have so much important business to attend to today,” Sendak said, and then he withdrew entirely. “I should let you get started on that.”

“ _ Sendak! _ ” Lotor squawked in outrage. 

Sendak laughed and draped himself back over Lotor. “Oh, my love… Of course I won’t leave after I’ve gotten you so worked up.” 

Lotor grumbled a little, but allowed Sendak to nuzzle and kiss the back of his neck, his way of apologizing.

“I don’t want you to have to do anything,” Sendak murmured. “I’ll take care of you, baby. Just let me do all the work, alright?”

Lotor hummed in agreement. He was still tired, and Sendak always made it so good for him, no matter what they were doing. 

Besides, he knew that Sendak liked taking care of him, that he got a great deal of gratification out of it, and so… 

Sendak coaxed him up onto his knees just long enough to slide a pillow under his hips, which propped them up at an angle.

“You look like you’re about to fall asleep,” Sendak noted, amused. “Are you that relaxed?”

Lotor hummed again. He really had needed this, hadn’t he? 

“Good,” Sendak said. “Just don’t actually fall asleep until I’m done with you, alright?”

“You’ll have to give me something to stay awake for,” Lotor said.

“Oh, I can do that, my love,” Sendak promised, and then his warm weight was gone from Lotor’s back.

Lotor was only briefly confused, because then he felt Sendak’s breath on his ass.

“ _ Oh _ ,” Lotor sighed, settling in for what he knew was a good time. 

Sendak didn’t immediately dive in, as he sometimes did. Instead, he licked stripes up and down Lotor’s thighs, his rough tongue making Lotor shiver, nipping the most sensitive places was unerring accuracy. He paid special attention to the crease between the top of Lotor’s thighs and the bottom of his ass, slowly moving inward towards his ultimate goal.

Despite its inevitability, Lotor still jerked in shock when Sendak finally lapped at his hole. He felt, more than heard, Sendak’s chuckle, and that only made things worse.

Especially since he refused to do more than tease. The scrape of his tongue was so much, and yet it really wasn’t  _ enough.  _ Not really what he wanted. 

He couldn’t find the words, though, to tell Sendak that. All he could do was whine and pant, while Sendak turned him into an oversensitized mess.

“Do you think you could come just from this?” Sendak asked, pulling back just slightly, so his hot breath kissed Lotor’s hole. “I think you could.” 

“ _ No _ , Sendak…” Lotor pleaded, hoping for mercy. “I  _ can’t _ .” 

“Mm…” Sendak said, pausing to think, brushing his thumb back and forth over Lotor’s hole, just barely dipping in. The prolonged teasing had made him pliant, and it would be so easy for Sendak to just  _ take him _ . “An experiment for another time, then.”

With that, he plunged two fingers into Lotor, honing in one the spot that made Lotor scream.

And scream he did; Sendak was so persistent, and after so much teasing…

His orgasm was forced out of him, and once it started, there was nothing he could do but let go. 

He was shaking by the time it was over, and he must have lost some time, because Sendak settled next to him, smelling like mouthwash.

“You were so good for me,” Sendak murmured, pulling Lotor into his arms and nuzzling the top of his head. “I love you so much.”

Lotor hummed in contentment. Between the massage and the orgasm, he felt more relaxed that he could remember being in a long time. “Do you need to-?”

“No, baby,” Sendak said. “I already did.”

“I’d let you fuck me right now,” Lotor said, “if you wanted to.”

Sendak laughed. “I know, trust me, my love, I know.” 

Lotor let Sendak cuddle him for a while, enjoying this calm moment.

The storm would come, and soon, and this was likely to be the last bit of peace he could have for a while.

It was nearly midday by the time Lotor finally asked. “I let you keep me in bed, so now you have to tell me why you were so insistent.”

“Because I wanted to?” Sendak tried.

Lotor just cocked an eyebrow.

Sendak sighed, drawing abstract patterns on Lotor’s back. “No one knows what your condition is after last night’s… incident. I intended to keep it that way. They know you aren’t dead, but they suspect that you are severely weakened. Vulnerable.”

“You wanted to draw the assassins out,” Lotor said. “You wanted whoever organized this to send more, so you could capture one alive.”

“Mhm,” Sendak agreed.

“You’ve drawn them here, though,” Lotor said. “These are still our rooms.”

“I let it be known that I’d had you moved elsewhere. There are guards stationed outside half-a-dozen rooms in the other buildings.”

“Multiple decoys,” Lotor said. “Clever.” 

“They’ll want to finish the job before you ‘recover’,” Sendak said, “so they should strike sometime soon. Before tomorrow morning, I would think.”

“So we just have to find a way to occupy ourselves until then,” Lotor said. 

“I’m sure we’ll think of something,” Sendak said. 

* * *

Lotor watched as the first rays of the rising sun broke over the horizon.

He wore nothing but a loosely-tied robe; the night was warm, though not as warm as day was set to be. Anyway, he didn’t see any reason to dress so late in the night. 

The sun’s light caught on the fields of grain beyond the edges of the city, turning them golden.

It would have been a beautiful sight, he supposed, if it were anywhere but here, on Daibazaal.

Bazal climbed up his leg and body, to his usual perch wound around Lotor’s shoulders; Lotor stroked his head absently, lost in thought.

He’d spent part of the day (admittedly, not a very large part) going over the latest atmospheric data, and…

It was time.

It would make him no friends. Not among the Blades, not among the Coalition, and maybe not among his own people. 

But.

It must be done. 


	12. The Audacity of This Man...smh

Sendak received the notification, and breathed a sigh of relief.

“Mm?” Lotor asked, drowsy from having just woken up.

“The guards managed to catch another assassin,” Sendak said. “Alive.”

“Ah…” Lotor sighed. “I suppose my stint of bedrest is at an end, then.”

“You don’t need to sound so relieved,” Sendak huffed. “I made sure you didn’t get bored.”

Lotor leaned up and kissed him. “I know, my darling. There’s just a lot to be done, and I can’t do it from here.”

“I know,” Sendak said. “I’m just relieved that we’ll have some answers soon about who wants you dead.” He pulled Lotor closer. “I love you.”

Lotor smiled softly. “I love you, too.” 

-

Smoke already filled the sky, making the setting sun a vibrant, brilliant red. 

The fields in the distance glowed with a different red light, one that was only growing brighter.

The drones had just started their task, and the fires would grow exponentially before this was done.

Daibazaal was no stranger to fire, wild or otherwise. Prehistoric Galra had evolved to deal with the effects of seasonal wildfires, and used fire as a tool to hunt and to purify the land when it became sick.

It was only the grain that would be adversely affected, and that was the whole point.

The grain was useless to the Galra and their ecosystem, when it was not actively harmful. The careful management such grain required prevented the husbandry of animals Galra could actually subsist on, took vital arable land out of the equation, and even changed the very ecosystem into something the Galra were not equipped to deal with.

To Galra, fire was a tool. It could give life, or take it. It could be used to harm, or heal. The old myths spoke of Daibazaal being born of fire, of Galra themselves being born of it.

To others…

Already there were efforts to extinguish the blazes, though they wouldn’t get far. Lotor had planned this carefully, after all, programming the drones to start thousands of fires all over the continent, in every field, and there was no way any hastily thrown-together action would succeed. 

No one had been prepared for this sort of thing. A small, local fire could be easily contained, but this was not that.

No one had the resources to deal with this, and by the time they could be imported by the Coalition, every field would be reduced to ashes.

Ashes that would nourish the best approximation of native Daibazaali plants Lotor could find. Plants that grew best following the seasonal wildfires, plants that reseeded themselves in the heat from the blazes. Plants that would themselves nourish fauna for his people to hunt and survive on.

Galra had never been agriculturalists, and that was alright; they didn’t need to be, in order to advance as far as they had. But animal husbandry came easily enough, and careful management of herd-creatures would provide enough.

He wouldn’t have to watch another child waste away to nothing. 

The slums at the outskirts of the city would be razed, too, the cheap polymer siding burning away as easily as the grain; after all, it was made from a byproduct of its processing for consumption. The new stone buildings, however…

Those would remain standing through all but the harshest of Daibazaal’s judgements. 

Lotor watched the fields ignite from the walkway between two of the government buildings. They were spindly, indefensible things; sometimes it seemed that even a sufficiently strong breeze might topple them.

The walkway was the least secure part of the whole thing, floating half-a-hundred feet in the air, and if he were afraid of heights, perhaps he would have been wary of traversing it.

But he wasn’t, and it did provide an excellent vantage point to watch as his plan unfolded.

Sendak watched with him, silent and intense, yet supportive. Others might have called Lotor’s plan crazy, or dangerous, or ill-advised; Sendak had only asked him what he needed for it to succeed. 

The grain would burn quickly; it was dry, so near to harvest. The fires would only last a few days, or perhaps a week, and then-

Then the Coalition would know that Daibazaal was not theirs. 

Something made Lotor turn, and he saw someone coming towards him on the walkway.

Sendak was immediately defensive, but Lotor maintained his relaxed demeanor (though it was an effort of will, given who the interloper was).

“What the fuck are you doing, Lotor?” The (former?) Black Paladin hissed.

Sendak snarled; to address Lotor so informally was the height of disrespect (though Sendak was, of course, exempt from such etiquette).

Lotor held up a hand, the only gesture he needed to tell Sendak to stand down. For now. 

“It’s a pleasure, Paladin,” Lotor drawled, “as always.”

“Cut the crap,” the paladin hissed. “You can’t just-  _ what the fuck are you doing? _ ” 

Lotor might have been amused, in other circumstances, about being accosted by such a tiny, angry little thing, but it was difficult to be, now. The last time this very  _ boy _ had taken such a tone with him… Well. It didn’t bear thinking on. 

“I don’t answer to you,” Lotor said, the edge of hostility creeping into his voice against his will. He ought to be civil, to “make friends”, but he couldn’t bring himself to be polite to the child who had signed his death warrant. 

(The child, he was told, who had somehow, allegedly, managed to kill Sendak.)

“The Coalition-“

“The Galra Empire is not part of the Coalition,” Lotor said. “That decision rests with me, as its rightful ruler. I will treat with the Coalition, and extend them the same respect they have extended me and my people, but I will not subject my people to their reign. Daibazaal is not free land for the Coalition to use and abuse as they see fit.”

“And is what you’re doing better?” The paladin demanded. “People are going to starve!”

“People are already starving,” Sendak growled. “Will you ignore them because they are Galra?”

The paladin looked like he’d been slapped. “I- that’s not-“

“The grain serves no one but the Coalition,” Lotor said. “And I will not let them take anymore from my people than they already have.”

He turned and began stalking away, Sendak trailing respectfully behind.

“The witch,  _ your mother _ , was experimenting with clones!” The paladin shouted at their backs. “How do you know this isn’t one of them?”

Lotor paused, a number of things coming together at once. “Because when you know someone, truly, deeply -when you care for them -a thousand men could wear the same face and you would still know which is yours.”

Of course none of the paladins had known there was an imposter in their midst, but Lotor would have known if Sendak had been replaced by a clone. After all the millennia they’d had together… It would have been beyond obvious.

“Concern yourself with the state of your clan before you seek to judge mine,” Lotor added, for good measure. “But… I know that you are a hybrid like myself, and I know that no one will see you for what you are… If you have questions, I will answer them. All you need do is  _ ask _ .” 

He could still feel the weight of the Paladin’s glare as he left with Sendak, but it was an impotent thing, and nothing he truly needed to concern himself with. 

With Voltron gone once more… There were so many more pressing matters. 


End file.
